Ten Weeks
by aurawn
Summary: Yet another postfinale fic. Lorelai reflects, tries to move on, and has some suprising news.
1. Chapter 1

_Ten Weeks_, by Aurawn

Disclaimer: All characters you recognize are the brain-products of Amy Sherman-Palladino, and the WB (soon to be the CW.)

It's so quiet.

She looks around the room. It's familiar, but something just seems different. But no. It's all there, all in it's place. The furniture is all in its spot, the pictures still hang on the walls, the flowers still in full bloom on the coffee table.

She's the one that's different.

How could she have done it? What had she been thinking? She slumps down on the her couch - their couch - and lets the tears fall from her eyes. The tears pour out as she looks around the house. It had been her house, her 'Crap Shack', but then he had come along, and made it their house. Their beautiful, remodeled house, ready and waiting for the family that they were supposed to be.

How could she have screwed it up so bad? Of course, it wasn't just her, she tries to console herself. He had said he was all-in, but he wasn't. He had been, once, she knew. She had been all-in, too.

But that was before. Before April. Before June 3. Before Chris.

Chris.

God, she feels so stupid. She was so stupid. Sleeping with Chris was the biggest mistake she had ever made. Hadn't she learned anything from _Friends_? You don't just run out and sleep with someone after breaking up! God, it's just like Ross and Rachel all over again. But this time, there's no happy ending. She can't think how she could possibly make it better.

She sobs. Her whole life just feels so empty. She was alone. She's been trying to resign herself to it, but it just hurts too much. She's going to die alone. How could he consider going back to her, after what she'd done? She had cheated on him. Sure, they had broken the engagement, but she knew... he knew.. that it hadn't been over yet. And then she went and screwed it up completely.

It had taken her so long to open up to a guy. Sure, she had a kid with Chris. She was going to marry Max. She had liked Jason. But she never - _never_ - had let anyone in like she had let Luke. She was all in. She had never felt safer, never felt better than she had when she was with Luke.

_Luke._ His very name makes her heart ache.

She loves him so much that it hurts. But she knows how terrible she had been. He was having a hard time - it's hard to find out you're a father, especially that way... and she had tried to support him. Really, tried. But he just got more and more distant as time went on. He rarely, if ever, spent the night. She would go into the diner every morning, and he'd look at her with an almost sad look... it was as if their passion was completely gone.

And boy, had it gone. They had only had sex one time since Valentine's Day. Valentine's Day - that had been so long ago! Back when things still looked hopeful, when Luke had told her that he loved her, really loved her, and wanted to marry her.

She wanted to marry him, too. What a way to show him! God, she's so dumb. Normal women just talk. But no, she has to go and sleep with Christopher. God, Christopher...

What had they been thinking?

She sobs, and grabs the throw blanket off of the back of the couch. She wraps it around her, trying so hard to get rid of that emptiness inside of her.

It's no use. This cold is here to stay. Luke was the warmth, and he was gone...

Shakily, she gets to her feet. She walks carefully to the bathroom, practically on tip-toe. She stops to look in the mirror above the sink, and sees her pale, skinny face before her. God, she's a mess. Her mascara, which had been carefully applied days ago, had streamed down her face as she had sobbed, leaving inky tear streaks down her cheeks. She pushes loose strands of her dark hair from her face, roughly jamming her hair into a ponytail. Looking back into her reflection, she tries hard to steel herself. Her eyes, which had lost their sparkle weeks ago, brim with fresh tears.

She picks it up.

Pink. Pink. Pink, pink, pink, _pink_.

No... she whispers, falling to the floor of the bathroom in another puddle of sobs. No...

She cries herself to sleep, right there on the bathroom floor. When she wakes up, hours later, she cannot remember where she is.

And then it comes crashing back to her.

She's pregnant. And she's alone. Again.

There's this unspeakable weight in her chest, and she's finding it hard to breathe. _Not again, not again..._ the mantra plays in her head, and she's rocking back and forth in a ball, curled up into the fetal position, just like the child that grows inside of her.

But a glimmer of hope sparks up inside of her, and she wonders... What if it's _his_?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

She still can't remember how she got here. Everything had passed by in a blur, and one moment she was on the floor of the bathroom, gagging and sobbing, and the next she was here, in a doctor's office.

_"God, I'm sure I look a mess,"_ she thought to herself. She let out a bitter laugh, and the women seated next to her looked at her with confused expressions. _"This is just so screwed up."_

"Ms. Gilmore?" she hears a nurse call. Silently, she gets up and grabs her bag off of the floor. She follows the nurse to a room, still in an odd haze that she can't seem to break herself out of. The nurse leaves her there, and she changes into one of those flimsy paper gowns that she hates so much.

Soon, the doctor comes in. He gets set up, and asks her questions, which she easily answers, as if she's on autopilot. Soon, she notices that she's laying down, and the doctor is spreading that cold gel that she had hated so much when she was pregnant with Rory on her stomach. She tries to focus, knowing that it's important to concentrate, especially now. Still, that haze creeps over her mind, and she lays there as the doctor does... well, whatever it is he does.

The haze lifts as the doctor speaks to her. "Congratulations, Ms. Gilmore, it looks like you're ten weeks pregnant. Everything looks great so far..."

She stops listening, and stares at the sonogram machine. Ten weeks. Ten weeks pregnant. _Ten weeks! _She's shaken out of her thoughts as the doctor hands her a few printouts of the sonogram, and tells her to make another appointment at the front desk.

Suddenly, she's home. She's still in a blur of emotions and feelings as she walks in the front door and puts her purse down on the table. She walks over to the fridge, and carefully sticks a copy of the sonogram on the door, right next to a picture of herself and Luke, several months before, that she had forgotten to remove after the breakup. She stands back and looks at it in awe. A _baby_. Right there, growing inside of her. Her emotions are on a roller coaster, thoughts flying through her mind. She's feeling a million different things at once, and hardly knows what she should do next. But she does know one thing.

This time, she won't cry. She won't wail about how her life is so terrible, and how she doesn't know what to do. She'll hold her head up high, and act like the responsible adult that she is supposed to be. And she won't cry. Because today is June 3rd, and it's her wedding day. And no matter what she has to do, _this_ child will have a mother _and _a father.

As Emily Gilmore would say, every child deserves a mother and a father, no matter what the sins of the mother are. A mother, and a father. This time, she's sure he'll be there for his child.

After all, he isn't Christopher.


End file.
